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“Exactly.” Having Maidstone’s train of thought parallel his own did much to boost Simon’s confidence. “That said, I asked Miss Crawford if she knew of anything of significant import that was to occur there soon.”

“And?” Martha leaned forward. “I assume there is.”

“Apparently.” Given Miss Crawford’s stricken expression at the lookout, Simon had a sinking feeling that Martha’s eagerness would soon turn to something more akin to fear. “I have not asked for details. I thought it better that we hear what she has to tell us as one.”

“Very good of you,” Maidstone said. He reached for Martha’s hand in a rare show of tenderness. “We are ready to hear what you have to say, Miss Crawford.”

Miss Crawford acknowledged Maidstone’s invitation with a slight nod. “Thank you, my lord.” She paused, concern filling her eyes. “To talk about events that are in your future but my past feels very strange. I don’t want to say anything that might change the course of your lives—or of history in general.”

“As commendable as that is, I would rather hear the whole of it rather than a watered-down version that leaves me guessing,” Maidstone said. “You may be assured that we will act with similar caution.”

She looked at Simon.

“I agree,” he said. “Tell us what you know.”

“There is a plot underway to kill the king and destroy the government,” she said.

Maidstone shrugged. “Unfortunately, there are usually several of them floating about.”

“Not like this one,” Miss Crawford said.

Maidstone’s eyebrows shot up at her emphatic tone, but Simon was coming to know the young lady. She would not speak so forcefully without good reason.

“How is this one different?” he asked.

“It has been planned for years,” she said. “The players are well connected and affluent and are fueled by a deep-seated hatred of those who have treated Catholics harshly. Everything they need is already in place, and they are waiting only for the opening day of Parliament to execute their plot.”

“What do they have planned?” Maidstone asked.

“They intend to blow up the Palace of Westminster when the king, his retinue, and all members of the House of Lords are in the building,” she said.

A log shifted in the fire, the sound unnaturally loud in the deathly silent parlor. Martha raised her free hand to her mouth to muffle a cry, and Maidstone found his voice.

“An act such as that would throw the country into a state of total anarchy.”

“I think that is their hope,” Miss Crawford said.

“But . . .” Martha’s face was completely void of color. “Would that not kill everyone in the building?”

“Everyone in the building and within at least a quarter-mile radius of the area,” Miss Crawford said. “They’ve stashed thirty-six barrels of gunpowder beneath the chamber.”

Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder! How was that even possible? As the frightfulness of this treacherous plot took root, Simon could not remain seated. He leaped to his feet, then paced to the window and back. “When you first told me you knew of an infamous event that would soon take place, you also said that it would end well.”

“Yes.” Miss Crawford’s hands were tightly clasped again. “The authorities will learn of it and capture the men responsible before the gunpowder is lit.”

“How?” Simon asked.

Maidstone raised his hand. “I beg your pardon for interrupting this line of questioning, but before we go into the details of how this shocking incident shall be averted—and may God be praised if it is—I believe it would be in our best interest to know who is responsible for this treachery.”

“Fair enough.” Simon paused at the fireplace. “Can you give us names, Miss Crawford?”

She grimaced slightly. “This would be way easier if I had internet access.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing.” She rubbed her forehead as though trying to encourage memories to resurface. “I wrote a research paper on this event when I was at university, but it’s been four or five years since I studied the material. There were about a dozen men in the conspiracy. I can probably come up with names for most of them, but the lesser-known ones will be harder to remember.”

Martha rose from her chair and walked to her small writing desk in the corner. “I will write them down. That way, if you remember more later, we can add to the list.”